


Damn Near Perfect

by Onceyourempire



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Fathers and sons get over themselves, Gen, I refuse to believe that certain things happened, Pacific Rim Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 07:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onceyourempire/pseuds/Onceyourempire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The War is over, and although much as been lost, the chance to fix what's been broken makes it all seem a little better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damn Near Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> A couple of pals and I saw Pacific Rim last night and holy SHIT what a movie. One of said pals also happens to be my roommate so we sat around our room talking about the movie and I confessed that I refused to believe Chuck was dead because a) he had??? no reason to die??? like Stacker did it's the Heroic Sacrifice of a man already dying like that works as sad as it is but like Chuck??????? What????? and b) I didn't realize there were escape pods until literally the end of the movie you try and tell me that Stacker didn't double up on Heroism and send Chuck shooting. And then we were talking about emotionally constipated angry Australians and their emotional reunion and I just got so involved and I had to write fic. It's been so long since I've written I hope it's okay! Also watching this lil fandom grow makes my withered heart grow three sizes I tell ya.

"Marshall?"

Herc is staring, eyes unfocused, at a screen with numbers flashing past. He hears someone call for him but it only registers somewhere along the nerves in his spine, never reaching his brain.

There is a pause. Herc hears his own breathing too loud.

"Marshall...? You'll want to see this."

He closes his eyes. Opens them. Walks towards the nervous young woman fiddling with her keyboard.

"Yes?"

"Another escape pod just showed up on our sweeps. The tracking must have been disabled."

He squints at the screen.

"Any life signs?"

"It's hard to tell. All the tech's been..." She hesitates, searching for a word, "well sir, it's screwed up. It probably got damaged during the Fight."

Herc hears and feels the capital F flick off her lips and knows what she means.

"Alright. Let's crack it open."

"Yessir."

He waits. He doesn't let himself have hope, because as nice as hope is, it has a mean right hook that knocks you flat before it walks out on you.

There's a crackle from the helicopter who found the escape pod.

"Sir? We found --"

Another crackle.

"Repeat, Away team."

"Sorry. We found a survivor from Striker. Your son. He's alive."

Herc squeezes his eyes shut and swallows a relieved sob.

"Thank you Away team. Bring them all home."

"Roger."

The radio dies.

The room is silent.

Herc opens his eyes and faces the room with a wide grin thats a little off kilter.

"I think we have some heroes to welcome, gang."

They all scramble to their feet, and the woman behind Herc slaps his shoulder before rushing out the door. Herc composes himself and follows the crowd.

The mass that greets Raleigh and Mako is much like the one that greeted them on their first mission. Warm, relieved, and proud all in one. Herc shakes both of their hands firmly and tells them they've done him, the world, and Stacker proud. He says this last bit while looking Mako, and is considerate enough to look away while she wipes her eyes. He doesn't miss the heartfelt smile she gives him.

Then, the crowds chatter dims and fades. Chuck is limping in with a half smirk on his face. Max makes a beeline for him and he kneels, wincing, to greet the slobbery onslaught. Herc, unsure and barely aware of his feet, moves towards him. His son looks up, nervous but hopeful, and soon stands.

"Dad." His voice cracks. Herc gives him a weak smile.

"Kid."

They don't move until suddenly they're both moving too fast and Chuck's damn bony elbow clips his temple and he's pretty sure his own fist smacked into Chuck's ribcage but they're hugging fiercely and they don't care about the injuries.

Herc feels those fingers, so much like his own, dig into his back and clench into his jacket and he can feel the blood soak into his shirt, he knows he needs to get all of these damn stupid kids wheeled off to the doctors but he just cant let go.

His nails scratch at the stiff short hairs at the nape of his only child's neck and he can feel him shaking with the leftover battle rush and relief and they're both making the small choking sounds that belay swallowed sobs.

He realizes he's talking, whispering "You're alright, i have you, you're going to be okay now" over and over and Chuck is just saying "Dad" and now they're both crying freely, a torrent of emotion they've bottled up for so long. In the back of his mind Herc feels regret, because all this time he felt for his son, protected him, taught him, but never showed anything and that's time he can never get back.

At least now he has the chance to try and make it right, he thinks, and a bubble of laughter mixed with a hiccup from all the crying rolls out of his mouth.

His chest hurts and he has the medical examiners pulling softly at his arms because he's holding too tight, he's going to hurt him, Sir we really need to get him looked at, he's bleeding still.

He breathes deeply and slowly relaxes his arms from their locked positions. His palm rests in the crook of his son's neck, right under his ear, and they meet each other's eyes for the first time since he walked through that door. He's sure there's snot on his face, because there's snot on Chuck's armor and Chuck's eyes have left a massive wet patch on his jacket. They look disgusting and his favorite idiot is wobbling as he stands and this is damn unprofessional but he just doesn't care.

His other hand mirrors the first and he firmly kisses Chuck's forehead. Chuck's hands scramble for purchase in his bloody shirt and he feels his son's shoulders shake. He pulls away, looks him in the eye, and whispers "I'm so fucking proud of you, boy" before handing him over to the doctors who carefully guide him away towards the exam rooms. His son looks over his shoulder before they vanish, and it's been a long time since he's seen him look so young and so joyful, even with his face a mess of tears and blood.

His hands are shaking and tears are still dripping down his face as he grins brightly as he turns towards the men and women who are now under his command.

"We cancelled the apocalypse!" he yells, and the crowd responds with equal enthusiasm.

There is still work to be done. There are buildings to repair, families to rebuild, people to mourn.

But the war is over and for the first time in a long time, they are free of the fear, the waiting, and the misery.

He's laughing and he can't stop the crying now that it's begun.

Chuck is alive.

While the world is not fixed, it seems damn near perfect right now.


End file.
